Celeste stood in front of her closet contemplating her choices. The aquamarine, a-line dress is best. She laid it across the bed and removed the jeans and floral tunic top she’d worn earlier in the day. She’d bought the dress for the twenty-fifth-anniversary cruise that she and Howard had taken to Bermuda. At once, a bad memory overshadowed the good one. Halfway through the cruise, she’d taken a spill on deck and sprained her ankle—not to mention her pride. Touring Bermuda on crutches had been difficult, and they’d missed some of the points of interest they’d wanted to see. Don’t worry. We’ll take this trip again for our thirty-fifth, Howard had said. Why can’t memories come with an editing function?
She pulled the dress over her head and yanked the zipper up the back. Considering her weight loss since Howard’s death, the garment hung looser than it had the last time she’d worn it. Still, it made a better impression than her usual—dress for comfort like someone’s grandma’s clothing. She accessorized it with the smoky quartz jewelry she’d purchased at a local craft fair and took a gander at herself in the full-length mirror.
“You’re looking good, Ceecee,” she said in her best impression of Howard’s voice.
At three p.m., she opened the lobby doors and greeted the first members of the Carlyle wedding party. Three couples introduced themselves as the groom’s sons, Roger, Alan, Tom, and their respective wives, Jessica, Kylie, and Missy. All three young men were of average height, build, similar brown hair color, and appeared to be around the same age as Celeste’s two children—early to mid-thirties.
Alan, the only one of the three brothers with brown eyes, seemed to exhibit curiosity about the hotel’s construction. He ran his hand along the doorframe and let his gaze wander overhead to the lobby’s knotty pine ceiling. When his eyes settled on her face again, he showed her a charismatic smile.
“Is that reclaimed wood on the ceiling?” he asked.
“Yes,” Celeste said. “My husband bought it as salvage from an old church that was being demolished. He cleaned and refinished every board. I couldn’t tell you how many hours he put into the job.”
“Nice work,” Alan said. “I manage a building supply center in Charlotte. I’m aware of how much it costs to buy that material new.”
Her eyes shifted downward from his face, and she noticed a company logo embroidered over the pocket of his green polo shirt. He must have come here direct from work.
“When we priced it,” she said. “We almost went with a cheaper product. Howard couldn’t believe his luck when he found just enough salvaged material to cover this ceiling.”
“I can imagine,” he said. He removed a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “If you ever need anything in the way of building supplies, give me a call.”
The kid’s a natural-born salesman. “I will, and I hope this won’t be your only visit to the Gran Vista.”
Alan joined his brothers at the reception counter. His wife, Kylie stood on the other side of the lobby. She held her phone close to her face and the movement of her thumbs indicated that she might have been sending a text message. Jessica and Missy stood behind their husbands and chatted with each other. Celeste didn’t intentionally eavesdrop on their conversation, but the women’s voices carried across the lobby. She heard the bride’s name mentioned in the same sentence with the words tacky wedding dress. Some snickering ensued, and Celeste moved closer to the door and out of earshot. Why do weddings sometimes bring out the worst in people?
From her vantage point, she spotted two more cars arriving. She recognized the bride emerging from a red sports car. At their initial meeting, the attractive brunette, Emma Olson had impressed her as a go-getter. Her enthusiasm and energy had been apparent during their walk-through of the facilities. Even though she’d brought along a woman she introduced as her wedding planner, it had been apparent that Emma had full charge of every detail.
Emma waited by her car until the other vehicle, a small SUV used by the local, private airport’s taxi service came to a stop. A tall man with a slightly heavy build and graying hair disembarked from the rear door. The way Emma grabbed his hand and walked close to him Celeste guessed that he must be the groom, Wesley Carlyle. She held the door for them to enter along with the driver who wheeled in their luggage.
“Mrs. Adams, it’s good to see you again,” Emma said.
Celeste nodded. “Likewise.”
“This is my fiancé, Wes.”
Seeing him close-up, he appeared to be sixty or thereabouts. Then again, people didn’t age at the same pace. Celeste liked to believe that she looked younger than her age, but the mirror and lighting often killed that fantasy. He extended his hand, and she placed her right hand in it. His firm grip and easy smile told her that, like his son, Alan, he was a gifted salesman.
The taxi driver placed their luggage at the end of the counter and departed. Celeste watched him leave the parking lot. Mr. Carlyle must’ve flown in from Charlotte.
“We’re looking forward to having our wedding festivities in your establishment,” he said while turning his head to scan the lobby. “I love the charm of this place. That mural of Grandview Overlook is exceptional.” He paused and leaned close to Emma. “We should take a few wedding photos in front of it.”
Celeste smiled. She enjoyed Mr. Carlyle’s observation. It would’ve made Howard immensely happy.
“My late husband commissioned it from a local artist,” she said. “We purchased several pieces of artwork from different high country galleries to use in the hotel.”
“Good choice,” he said. “I’ll have to tour the place later. I’d like to rest for a little while before the rehearsal.”
“You’ll be staying in the honeymoon suite,” she said.
He grinned. “Emma will be staying there tonight, and I’ll join her tomorrow night after the wedding.”
“Oh, of course.” Her cheeks tingled, and she hoped she wasn’t blushing with embarrassment. “If you’ll step over to the reception desk, Maddie will take care of checking you in.”
Wes greeted his sons with back pats and handshakes. They’re not a hugging family. Celeste’s family had never been huggers, but Howard’s family could be fanatics about it. She’d had to get used to it in the early days of their marriage.
“We have two more family members coming who’ll be staying for the weekend,” Emma said. “The other members of the wedding party live in Lenoir so they can drive in for the rehearsal tonight and return for the wedding tomorrow. It’s only twenty miles.”
Without the concealing make-up that Emma had worn on her initial visit, Celeste could see that she was older than she’d originally thought. At least, forty—possibly forty-five, I’d say.
“The other two who are staying with us will be my sister, Beverly, and my brother, Nathan,” Emma continued.
Renee had mentioned that she’d planned the rehearsal dinner for fifteen people. I wonder if Lenoir is Emma’s hometown. Emma answered her question as if she’d read Celeste’s mind.
“I grew up in Lenoir. My parents and most of my family still live there,” she said. “When I was a child, we came here many times to go camping and fishing so this area is like a home away from home. I went to college in Boone—Appalachian class of 2000.” She paused and leaned closer to Celeste. “I have a confession to make. When I was in school at ASU, I worked here as a waitress in the restaurant. After I’d heard that The Harvest Moon had been remodeled and reopened, I didn’t look anywhere else. It reminded me of a wonderful time in my life, and I hope this marriage will be the start of another such time.”
“I’m glad our renovations impressed you, and I hope all of your guests will be comfortable here and will want to make a return visit in the future.”
Oh, good grief, I sounded like the recording on our automated phone system. She pulled the line from one of her hotel management course books. Maybe, I’ll skip it for now.
“I can’t believe the difference you’ve made,” Emma said. “There us
ed to be a gold-colored carpet in here, and you could see the trail guests had blazed from the check-in desk to the elevators.”
Celeste chuckled at her own memory of that carpet. “The first time my husband and I toured the place with the real estate agent, I cringed when I saw the carpeting. We wasted no time taking it out of here and good riddance to it.”
She stopped speaking when she felt her voice quake. Upon first laying eyes on the hotel, she’d felt as if she’d been transported forty years into the past. She’d expressed her concerns to Howard. Bringing this old building into the present-day is going to be a monumental task, she’d told him. But his confident attitude and contagious enthusiasm could always win her over. We can do it, Ceecee. We’ve always dreamed of this and now, it’s ours.
“The hardwood you replaced it with is a hundred times better,” Emma said.
As much as she wanted the opportunity to brag on her achievements, Emma had little time to waste.
“You’d better check in,” Celeste said. “You have a big evening ahead of you.”
Emma smiled and joined her husband at the reception desk. Celeste saw that the Carlyle sisters-in-law had gathered next to the elevator while their husbands chatted with Wes. Jessica and Missy resembled one another enough to be sisters. Both were the same height and blonde with similar short haircuts, but Missy was thin while Jessica had a curvy figure. Kylie, on the other hand, was tall, a brunette, and could have been a little older than the other two. As her husband had earlier, she seemed to be admiring the lobby’s woodwork. Howard had used two-by-sixes with a chestnut stain to trim the opening for the elevator doors so that even that necessary mechanism didn’t take away from the mountain lodge ambiance.
Jessica tapped her sandal-clad foot on the burgundy, vinyl mat placed in front of the elevator doors to protect the hardwood floor from the traffic. She kept tossing glances at her husband. If Roger is anything like Howard, it will do her no good to rush him when he’s in the middle of what seems to be a serious discussion.
“I’d rather be at Hilton Head,” Missy said. Her hand shook while she touched up her lipstick. “This whole affair makes me nervous. I hope Papa Wes knows what he’s doing.”
“I have a couple of sellers on the hook who are almost ready to close on a deal I’ve been putting together,” Kylie responded. “This is the last place I need to be.”
“You really have it rough,” Jessica said. “Wes is not only your father-in-law—he’s your boss, too. I don’t think I could stand working for him. He’s always thought that Roger could’ve chosen a better wife than me.”
“That’s your imagination, Jessica,” Kylie said. “I’ve never heard him say anything against you.”
The entry doors bumped Celeste from behind, and she jumped. The burst of adrenaline caused her heartbeat to race. That’s what I get for listening to a private conversation instead of paying attention to my job. She moved aside to allow a middle-aged woman to enter. The lady wore jeans, sporty sandals, and a silk shirt, but Celeste didn’t have a chance to greet her. She made a beeline for Emma and the two women hugged. Emma’s sister, I presume. Her suspicion was confirmed when she heard Emma address the woman as Beverly. They didn’t resemble one another. Beverly had a lighter shade of hair, more height, and a more voluptuous figure than Emma’s. Celeste also guessed that Beverly was the senior of the two.
“Ryan didn’t come with you?” Emma asked.
“He had too much work today to take off early,” Beverly said. “He’ll drive in with the girls this evening, but I told him that my sister needed me here as soon as possible for moral support.”
Emma’s glance in the direction of her soon-to-be step-daughters-in-law didn’t escape Celeste’s notice.
“Your intuition is always spot on,” Emma said.
“When is Nathan coming?” Beverly asked.
“He’s driving down from Pittsburgh so he might run in just in time for the rehearsal.”
“Same old Nathan,” Beverly said. “I hope you told him that the rehearsal is an hour earlier than the actual time it starts.”
Celeste smiled at the exchange. Her son, Cameron’s lack of punctuality could drive Howard crazy. Her husband had never been late for anything in his life, but Cam’s sense of timing was always at least ten minutes off.
After greeting and forming a general impression of the Carlyle clan, Celeste retired to her cottage behind the hotel to get some rest. The cottage hadn’t been part of the original hotel. Howard had the modular home moved onto the grounds so that they could be near the hotel during every phase of the renovation.
They’d realized its convenience during the first heavy snowfall following their grand opening. Nineteen inches had accumulated in the overnight hours, making the road by the Gran Vista impassable. With their staff unable to reach the hotel, the two of them had to take care of their snowbound guests. She and Howard had breathed a sigh of relief when the snowplows arrived several hours later.
Recently, she’d thought of moving into one of the four suites on the top floor of the hotel and offering the two-bedroom cottage as an accommodation for guests who might want more privacy. If she did decide to make the move, downsizing wouldn’t be a problem. She’d already accomplished that feat once before when they’d sold their three-bedroom, two-and-one-half-bath home in Raleigh to move to the mountains.
She walked into the combination kitchen/dining room to brew a cup of coffee in her single-cup coffee maker. She’d never been one to hold on to too much. Howard, on the other hand, couldn’t part with anything. When they’d cleaned out the garage before moving, she’d found a box of old hunting, fishing, and tool catalogs that he’d been keeping for years. Howard, why do you still have these? She’d asked him. I might need them someday, he’d answered. From the dates on the catalogs, she was sure the prices were no longer effective and one or two of the stores had gone out of business.
Celeste took her coffee to the oversized loveseat in her living room and grabbed the remote. She switched on the classic television station to the four o’clock episode of Perry Mason. My childhood is classic. I really am old. She held the ceramic cup between her hands and savored the warm liquid as it rolled around on her tongue and slid down her throat. She loved her afternoon coffee, but it didn’t keep her eyelids from drooping.
Worrying over hosting the Gran Vista’s first wedding had interfered with her sleep the previous night. Come on, coffee do your stuff. She took a few more sips. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of a nap. Someone might need her, but her eyes began to cross. She might as well have had a bowling ball atop her shoulders. What happened to the days when I could stay awake all night with a sick child and still keep going through a busy day at work? Her eyes closed again when a mattress commercial appeared on the screen. Her head fell to one side. Age is just a number—a sleep number.
Chapter 3
Celeste’s head jerked up. An iconic theme song blared from the T.V. She reached for the cup of now cold coffee. Oh, no, I drifted off and missed the end of that episode. Well, it isn’t as if I haven’t seen it a dozen times. Actually, the last thing she remembered was one of those drug commercials that show happy people riding bikes in the park and always end with the admonition that the drug could cause death under certain circumstances. A knock at the cottage door brought her to her feet.
“Mrs. Adams, are you in there?”
The voice on the other side of the door belonged to Maddie, her desk clerk. Fearing that something catastrophic had happened, she rushed to the door and flung it open.
“Is something wrong?”
Maddie held out Celeste’s smartphone. “I was trying to get in touch with you and found where you’d left your phone in the office.”
Heat flushed Celeste’s cheeks. Too many senior moments lately. I hope Maddie doesn’t think I’m losing my mind. Celeste had been glad that Maddie stayed on full-time through the summer after her college classes had ended. Maddie’s parents lived in the nearby town of
Banner Elk so she didn’t have too far to commute.
“I’m so sorry. Hosting our first wedding has me on edge.”
“I understand but don’t worry, Mrs. Adams. I’ve heard no complaints from anyone in the wedding party.” She paused and pushed her red-framed glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. The color suited her dark brown hair and eyes. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but one of the guests reported that the cappuccino machine in the internet café isn’t working. I shut it off and turned it on again, and it still won’t start.”
“Oh, it’s probably the water reservoir. You have to push it into place a certain way to activate a sensor. Otherwise, it won’t work. I’ll take care of it.”
While strolling along the path to the hotel with Maddie, she saw a second catering van parked behind the kitchen. Renee and her crew must be setting the tables in the party room by now. She glanced across the lawn to where the wedding planner had deposited place markers to show the seating arrangement and where the wedding party would stand.
“Emma and Wes will take their vows with Grandfather Mountain looming in the background,” she said. “Oh, I shouldn’t use the word looming. That sounds foreboding. Grandfather Mountain standing majestic in the background sounds better.”
Maddie chuckled. “Mrs. Adams, you’re a hoot.”
“For someone old enough to be your grandmother.”
“You are not,” Maddie said. “My grandmother is seventy-five.”
Celeste refrained from extrapolating the math for her young employee. If I had been twenty when my first child was born, and she had been twenty when her first child was born… But Maddie was right in a sense. The years had flown by at the speed of sound, and Celeste didn’t feel old enough to be the grandmother of a college student.
In the kitchen, she saw Renee and her helpers scurrying around preparing the rehearsal dinner. That kitchen probably hadn’t seen so much activity since The Harvest Moon Hotel Restaurant had been in operation. Renee smiled at her as she walked through to the café. Howard had converted half of the old restaurant dining room into an internet café with self-service coffee machines. The other half was now a party room that they rented for occasions such as the catered rehearsal dinner.
Mrs. Carlyle's Second Honeymoon Page 2